OPENING CHAPTER—Ashwood High: The Lost Hours
The First Loop
Kai Martinez arrived at Ashwood High at 7:42 a.m.
He knew the exact time because he'd checked his phone twice—once at the front gate and again just as the breeze shifted, carrying the faint scent of old books and fresh-cut grass. The campus sprawled ahead of him, brick walls glowing gold in the early morning sun, lockers clanging open, and students rushing past with backpacks and half-eaten breakfast bars.
It should've felt like any normal first day.
It didn't.
Kai stepped forward—
—and the world blinked.
A girl dropped a stack of papers in front of him.
A whistle blew somewhere near the gym.
A door slammed shut behind him.
Then everything snapped back.
Kai blinked hard. He was standing at the front gate again.
7:42 a.m.
His phone buzzed with the same notification.
The same breeze.
The same scent.
The same girl dropping papers in the distance.
"What…?" Kai whispered.
The loop lasted only ten seconds, but he felt it settle into his bones like ice.
He took a shaky breath and stepped forward again—slowly, cautiously.
Nothing happened.
The world stayed put.
Okay. First-day jitters.
That's what he told himself, because the only other explanation was impossible.
He made it as far as the main hallway before the second loop hit.
A fluorescent light flickered overhead.
A locker slammed.
Someone shouted, "Hey! Wait up!"
Time tugged—like a hand had gripped the collar of his shirt.
Blink.
Kai stumbled.
Back in place.
Right where he'd been ten seconds ago.
But this time, someone saw it.
A girl with dark hair pulled into a perfect braid paused mid-step, eyes narrowing sharply. She looked like the type who never broke a rule, never missed a class, and never failed at anything. Her binder was color-coded. Her gaze was laser-focused.
"You glitched," she said quietly.
Kai's blood ran cold.
"You… saw that?"
"I don't know what I saw," she replied, studying him like he was a puzzle piece that didn't fit. "But it wasn't normal."
He opened his mouth to respond—but before he could, the morning announcements crackled through the speakers:
"Students, please be aware that a member of the sophomore class—Evan Park—has been reported absent today. Any information should be shared with the front office."
The girl beside him froze.
Her knuckles whitened around her binder.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"…Evan Park is my brother."
Before Kai could say anything, before he could even breathe, a locker down the hall creaked open on its own—slowly, unnaturally—revealing a single sheet of paper resting inside.
The girl stepped toward it.
Kai followed, pulse hammering.
The paper held five words, written in jagged black ink:
"He's not gone. Find the door."
The girl's breath caught.
Kai's heart lurched.
And somewhere in the distance, the school bell rang—twice.
Once for reality.
Once for something else.
The Lost Hours had begun.
Finally.....